


“Excuse me , Dr. Gilbert, but all this dancin’ and romancin’ has made us hella late.”

by AwkwardGayGirlFeels



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Food, Girlfriends - Freeform, I am absolute trash, Stream of Consciousness, They are so gay for each other, They are so perfect together, cuteness, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7672654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwardGayGirlFeels/pseuds/AwkwardGayGirlFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mornings in the Holtzmann-Gilbert apartment are some of the most peaceful, beautiful, and amazing moments in all of the world. And they're pretty fun, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	“Excuse me , Dr. Gilbert, but all this dancin’ and romancin’ has made us hella late.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is set about seven months after the events in Ghostbusters, and Erin and Jillian are girlfriends, are madly in love with each other, and live in an apartment together. This is basically just my mind running wild and imagining some of the cute things that they would do together.
> 
> This work is loosely based on and makes a few references to my favorite Holtzbert fic yet, which is here on AO3 titled "The Holtzmann Problem". It is wonderful, you should totally read it, but my writing will still make sense 97% of the time if you don't choose to.

Every morning, at around seven thirty, Erin was always awoken by a gentle kiss on her cheek and a soft hand on her arm. And she would open her eyes and sleepily smile up at the face of her beautiful engineer, and both would quietly utter ‘good mornings’ to each other.

 

And Holtzmann would run her hand over Erin’s cheek and jokingly point out her eye-bags, and Erin would touch Holtzmann’s mouth and point out any drool marks on her pillow. And they would laugh softly, and kiss each other, and share any dreams that had occurred that night. And the pair would sarcastically analyze them together.

 

Then Holtz would move to get out of the bed, but Erin would stop her, pull her in close, and snuggle into her neck.

And Holtz would let out an uncharacteristic giggle, curl closer into Erin’s body, and mention how adorable Erin looked in the mornings. And the two would just lie there, in comfortable silence, content just to be holding each other.

 

Holtz would intertwine the fingers of her left hand with Erin’s right, and roll to face her, wrapping one of her legs around both of Erin’s. And Erin would run her hand through Holtz’s impossibly long, how-does-it-fit-in-that-bun hair, and pull their intertwined hands to her mouth, kissing Holtzmann’s.

 

Holtz would lie there and marvel to herself at how Erin Gilbert, the most amazing woman in the world, was lying beside her. How Erin Gilbert was in love with her.

 

And Erin would lie there and wonder how Holtzmann, the most attractive and smartest woman in the world, could fall in love with such an anxious dork.

 

And some mornings, Holtz would interrupt the silence by sneezing, and they would laugh, or Erin would grumble about pillow lines on her face, and they would laugh, simply enjoying one another’s presence.

 

The comfortable silence would return, and both women would recall to themselves a favorite memory that they had shared together.

 

Erin would recall the day they first met, how Holtz had greeted her with a pick up line, and how Erin had immediately wanted to smother her in kisses and never let her go. And Erin would chuckle to herself a little. And sometimes Holtz would sense that was what Erin was remembering and she’d say “Come here often?” in that same tone she’d used that first day, right up against Erin’s ear. And Erin would blush and giggle and squeeze the blonde’s hand tightly.

 

And Holtz would recall the first time she and Erin had really kissed. Under the night sky projector in Holtz’s apartment that she had spent an entire day building for Erin in order to show how much she loved her. And Holtzmann would remember how the sparks flew when their lips met, and how soft Erin’s lips were, and the happiness and bliss both women had felt.

 

And then Erin would whisper into Holtzy’s ear quietly and say “Jillian, you are the love of my life.” And Jillian would shudder with joy at hearing her first name from the woman she loved and her heart would swell.

 

And occasionally, Erin’s sweetness would cause Jillian to cry with happiness and love, which was something she only felt comfortable doing around Erin. And then Erin would cry too, since she loved that Jillian felt happy and safe with her. And they would both just grip each other tightly and time would stand still.

 

Then Erin, with much resistance from Jillian, would scooch out of bed, stand up, walk to the bathroom, and turn on the shower. She’d undress and then stick her head out of the door frame and smile sheepishly, cheeks bright pink, at her gorgeous girlfriend in their bed. And Jillian would wink at her, quickly get out of the bed and follow Erin into the bathroom.

 

And then they were showering, and kissing, and splashing, and they were each just so grateful for the other.  Erin would rub hand soap into Jillian’s hair, as that was Jillian’s preferred ‘shampoo’ and Jillian would try to balance a rubber duck on Erin’s nose, which usually did not work.

 

Then they’d turn the water off and dry each other off with towels. And they would both blow dry their hair, all the while trying to talk over the noise of the blower. Jillian would shout to Erin that she’d try to fix that, but Erin would just shake her head and grin, unable to hear above the noise.

 

Once their hair was dry, Jillian would head back to the bedroom to change and start styling her hair, and Erin would head towards the kitchen to start making their breakfast. And after a while, Jillian would approach the kitchen, hairdo only half completed, large chunks of hair strands sticking out of her bun from every part of her head.

 

And Jillian would gape at Erin’s still naked body carefully hovering over a pan of scrambled eggs. And Jillian would clear her throat, causing Erin to look at her and blush, cheeks flushing a phenomenal shade of red, then quickly turn away from Jillian.

 

But Jillian would come up behind Erin and hug her tightly, a hug full of warmth and love and passion and every emotion the scientists felt towards one another. Then Erin would pull back and admire her girlfriend’s marvelous outfit of the day, and tell her how beautiful she was.

 

And Jillian herself would blush and giggle her rare, high pitched giggle, and she’d say “Erin, you are beautiful-er” and that Erin was the most beautiful woman to have ever lived. And Erin would kiss her and ask Jillian to watch the eggs while she went to change.

 

Jillian would scratch her head and stare down at the pan, trying to make sure nothing was burning. Then she’d call to Erin that all the Holtzmanns were terrible cooks and she didn’t know what she was doing, and Erin would laugh loudly and say that “That’s one of the things I love about you, Jillian.”

 

Then Erin would return to the kitchen in one of her own marvelous outfits, and Jillian would remark on the bowtie, and Erin would remark on Jillian’s unfinished hairstyle. And some days, Jillian would hurry away to go finish it. But other days, she would take out all of the pins in her hair, right there in the kitchen, and let her long, golden locks tumble down, where they’d end halfway down her back.

 

And Erin would kiss her head, taking in the scents of the soap in her hair and the scents of her skin, which smelled like gingersnaps and wood. And sometimes Jillian would make a flirty remark, and Erin would lightly hit her shoulder, or sometimes Erin would make a completely obscene remark and Jillian would grin from ear to ear.

 

Then Erin would serve their food and Jillian would hop onto the kitchen counter and Erin would follow suit. And then they’d put their dishes in the sink and Jillian would begin to blast an 80’s song and dance around Erin, who would laugh and begin to dance as well.

 

And they’d dance and dance, caught up in the moment and with each other until Jillian would say “Excuse me , Dr. Gilbert, but all this dancin’ and romancin’ has made us hella late.”

And Erin would laugh and go grab her purse and shoes, while Jillian would grab her goggles and boots, and they’d leave their apartment.

 

They’d head down to the building’s garage and Jillian would sprint to their car, arms flailing and voice whooping and she’d hop in the driver’s seat before Erin could protest. And Erin would shake her head and smile and sit in the passenger’s side.

 

And Jillian would blast the radio and Erin would calmly ask if she “could turn that down please, babe? It’ll hinder your driving.” And Jillian would roll her eyes and turn it down and ask Erin a question along the lines of “if you could only call me babe or baby, which would you pick?” And Erin would think long and hard and the two would debate Erin’s answer.

 

And the car ride to the fire station would be filled with laughter, and hand holding, and shouts from Erin to stop speeding. And Jillian would change the radio song lyrics to be about Erin, who would blush and say how Jillian’s improv skills never failed to impress her.

 

And when they pulled up to the station, Erin would exit the car and run to the driver’s side and open Jillian’s door for her, earning a “thank you, milady” and a wink. And the couple would hold hands and walk inside.

 

Abby would look up from her mad scribbling to greet the pair and comment on Jillian’s hair being down, if it was. And Kevin would look up from his desk covered in spit out coffee and wave, and Jillian and Erin would give each other a look and laugh.

 

Then the couple would walk up the stairs to Jillian’s lab and pass Patty sitting on one of the couches, who’d smile and say that they were adorable together. And Erin would thank her, and Jillian would make a joke and then the two would reach the lab.

 

They’d close the door and kiss for a long, long time. And then they’d hug for a long, long time. Then Jillian would bow to Erin and head over to her latest invention, and her usual banging and hammering would start. And Erin would head back downstairs to start her own work.

 

And in the moments when the two weren’t together, they would often steal glances at each other. Jillian at Erin’s head from the window in her lab that overlooked the lower level, and Erin at Jillian on her rolling stool from the couch across the hall from the lab.

 

And throughout the day, Jillian would call Erin up to get first pick at a batch of new weapons, or to show her a new contraption, or simply to say hello. And Erin would bring Jillian tea, or Pringles, or pizza, since she didn’t want Jillian to forget to eat.

 

And everyone in the firehouse heard the love in their voices when the two addressed each other and knew how much they cared for each other. And life was good. Life was great. Life was perfect.

 

For Jillian Holtzmann and Erin Gilbert had each found the woman of her dreams, and they would never let each other go.

**Author's Note:**

> I have seen Ghostbusters so many fucking times at this point (many of which were probably from sketchy websites and possibly gave my laptop a virus, but I don't care it's worth it) and these two babies are so perfect for each other I can't. I will definitely be writing more about them and I am currently working on a pretty long piece that I hope to upload soon. These works will probably be a series, but I'll just have to see if my brain does indeed chose to not change its mind.
> 
> My writing isn't perfect, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same. (Yes, all the 'ands' and 'thens' were a style choice. If you were wondering) 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I really, really appreciate you. 
> 
> Again, totally recommend "The Holtzmann Problem." It explains the star projector thing I mentioned and it is truly truly amazing. 
> 
> Thank you, again, for reading. We can all be trash together. I love you all.


End file.
